Saving Our Desolation
by Charlie Raey
Summary: To heal him and help him find something he lost long ago, the Man in the Moon has turned Bunnymund human. The only problem with him helping is, Easter is in a month, and the only person who can help him turn back in time is Jack Frost. And they know next to nothing about each other, and how to get along. Rated M for later chapters and language. Possible Lemons.
1. A Chill Beginning

I'm aware that I'm going to hell for doing this with a children's movie, but I started reading them and I couldn't help myself. So here! DAMMIT! Enjoy.

Not going to be very long, maybe 3-5 chapters. But the chapters ill be longer than this one. Sorry. My house is hot-90 degrees and I couldn't concentrate. My excuses...

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As he raised his hand, he marveled. Fingers. And no fur. Then he started to freak out. He twisted looking for his tail, and shrieked as he saw only tan skin, furless, covering his lowerhalf. His powerful, pawed hindquarters had turned into lithe, well-muscled human legs, and as he felt frantically, desperately for his ears, he whined and felt like crying. His slings rode very low on his torso, and his toes curled into the grass. His tattoos sprawled tan flesh, and he felt fine, but he was...human.

Why? He was supposed to be a rabbit. A bunny. But...he was a human man. He was still pretty tall, and well-built if slim. He curled up his fists, and looked down on his fingers, nails trimmed reasonably and pigment a beige tan. He lifted his hand to touch his head again and felt at the fur-soft hair on his head. Trailing his hand down his head, he felt his human ears, and his furless neck and jugular, and his lightly stubbled jawline.

Clutching at his boomerang pouch's strap, he walked slowly to a bend in the multi-colored stream that ran through his Warren, and stared in fascinated horror at his image as it waved at him weakly, hand shaking. Turning a bit, he looked himself over and abjectively decided he didn't look _bad_, for a human. But he began to despair as he realized that he had no idea what to do. He didn't even know if his tunnels still worked, and had no clue how to get to help the human way. Grabbing fistfuls of his new hair, he started on the road to panic.

Just before he began thinking that Easter would be gone forever, a chill breeze swept through him, frosting over bits of grass here and there around him, and he saw a speck in the distance. It was Frost. But he didn't look like he was coming this way. Bunny hurried to get a boomerang out, aiming carefully and throwing it to catch Jack's attention. And did he ever. The boomerang flew wild, the new height, though not too different, was different enough from the one he'd been at for centuries, and it knocked the weapon close to Jack's face, whizzing past at a scary speed, flashing down to land somewhere in the tall grass.

The winter spirit cursed and dropped, startled out of his midmorning flight, and looked down to see a man glaring up at him, eyes green and firey.

Frowning in confusion, Jack lowered somemore, getting closer, "How'd you get in here? Ole' Kangaroo's getting rusty if somebody followed him."

"Ya bloody wanker, like anybody could follow me in here!" The man yelled in an eerily familar voice, and Jack's eyes grew wide with disbelief, sinking further to examine the man. He was naked, and had a...fuck. He had Bunny's boomerang sling on his back, and Bunny's tattoos. And Bunny's glare. Holy shit.

He descended down to touch the grass, turning a few blades of grass to ice, breath puffing in front of him visibly. His chill was leaking out of him as he got more upset, and the further he traced the man's features with his mind, the more the looked like Bunny, and the colder it got, until he finally noticed and began to pull it in, letting the frozen grass melt slowly. Eyes still wide, he half-floated, circling the tall man, pulling on his hair a little. The other was shocking patient, and only showed annoyance as Jack poked his forehead tattoo, rubbing a bit.

"It's me, alright, ya damn bodgy dipstick! It's Bunny, dammit, Frost!" Aster slapped his hand away and bared his teeth, normal-sized and white up at the slightly hovering boy. Finally snapping out of his shocked stupor, the white-haired teen grinned and laughed full and long and loud, making a loop around the former rabbit.

"What on earth happened to you, Cottontail?"

"How 'm I supposed to bloody know! One sec I'm on my way to the Northeast tunnel to make sure everythin's good for next month, I get dizzy, black out, and woke up this way! As..as...as a human," his voice was dropped to desperation the last few notes, and Jack looked closer at the way Aster's shoulder's were hunched, and the way his hand was gripping the now empty boomerang sling. His fingers were shaking, and the boy sighed, knowing when not to joke.

"Alright. Gimme a few minutes. I'll go try to get help," he muttered, giving a last look at the shaken Easter spirit, and whipping his staff a half turn to the front and left, towards Tooth Palace. He was hoping the Tooth Fairy herself would be in, but wasn't sure, since she'd gotten a taste for field work again since the battle with Pitch. Letting the wind carry him close, he stuck out a tendril of frost to let her know he was coming incase she was at home.

But as he pulled near, only a few fairies glanced at him, a small number of flocks at the tiered, balconied Palace. Okay, no Tooth, then. No telling where she was when she was in the field, and Santa was a safer bet to be found quickly anyways.

So he flipped his staff a half-sweep, released a whisper of his chill, and made a quick jab to the north. The wind swept his away faster than the eye could follow, catching a northern gust and letting him ride it.

He couldn't help his joy in flight, even with things like they were with Bunnymund. Whooping and grinning, he hurtled through the snowscape towards the toyhold. As he touched down, even the snow was frosted blue beneath his toes, and his nose and cheeks were blue with his flush. His breath was eager, and he hopped up into one of the long caverns, stepping around the icicles and far up into the peak of the mountain, emerging into the stable and sleigh rooms. The air was pleasantly cool for the reindeer, and they snuffled and snorted at the pixie as he moved through the aisle between the stalls, rubbing their velvet muzzles as they touched his hands, taking a moment before hurrying through.

Finally, after a short flight through caverns and corridors, passing groups of elves and the occasional yeti, Jack emerged into the central chamber, toys just beginning to be drawn out, many side rooms being used instead, with the giant globe lit up like a huge disco ball, as was only right. If they didn't find a way to fix this, Jack thought, a shudder of alarm and sudden fear jolting him, a big number of those lights would dim and fade in a few mere weeks. Jerking up his staff, he soared up to the ledge here North's office was, and burst in, only to find...nothing. He wasn't there. Cursing, the pixie whipped in a circle, helplessness filling him for a moment so he choked. But after a moment, gathering himself, he shook and made himself go search through the mountain halls, swallowing down his cries for the old man who somehow usually knew what to do.

But it was fruitless, and Jack gave up in the end, not having a clue how to even being the search. Sandy was equally unreachable unless he came to you or you were asleep. Jack wasn't sleepy, to say the least. So he flipped his staff in a half-jab-point, and was jerked back out of the tunnels, into the frigid arctic air, swept up a bit by the wind before balancing. Taking one last look around, the pixie whispered to the wind, his only companion, "Cottontail. Take me to Cottontail."

Anxiety and worry bubbled in his stomach, and he found it hard to face the spring spirit with nothing to show. But as he neared the Warren, and saw the pacing figure below, he frowned and landed near, clearing his throat. Bunny started, and turned to glare at Jack, only to freeze.

Above him, far, far in the sky over the white-haired boy was a big, plump full moon, shining with unspoken words. Just before Jack could speak again, Aster was swept into a conversation, ghost memory ears twitching back and swiveling to catch the Man's words.

_E. Aster Bunnymund. You have lost touch with your humanity. You must find it, and to find it, you must find again what makes spring the season of Hopes. You must start anew. Realize why humans love spring and the new beginnings of Hope. Jack Frost has also lost his way. He is lonely after 300 years alone with only the cold wind for company and is desolate of Hope, not knowing why I've chosen for him to be here. You are also lonely after the extinction of your kind so long ago, and are desolate of someone to share your Hope with. Together you will see a better day. Help each other. Be good for each other. Love one another._

Bunny snapped out of his stupor with a jerk, panic and dread filling him at the implications of the Man's words. It just wasn't possible. But...he turned to look at the boy. Bright, clear blue eyes were looking at him from under snow-white, clean hair, a pale hand clenching his frost staff, the other reaching for the former Pooka's shoulder to try and communicate.

"Bunny? Bunnymund? Mr. Kangaroo!"

Aster swung away, suddenly very _very_ conscious of the fact he was naked.

"M' fine, Snowflake. Jus' want some bloody clothes, is all." He ignored the heat crawling uncomfortably don his neck and across his chest and back. This is why it was better to just have fur.


	2. Melted Sadness

So I need somes reviewin! Please tell me what you think guys! I need to know I'm sharing with people and not sad by myself like jaw-derp-face.

thank you-

AyameKitsune

RizReviewer

DevilMadeYouCry

Kimmie

-for being my first reviewers!

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Bunny refused to come out, even though they were both males, insisting he'd never had his junk exposed like this, and it was ' bloody indecent, ya damn snowman'. So Jack sat on a stone outside the Pooka's hutch and waited, playing with a touch of frost he made on the rock surface, moving it about and making shapes. As he hummed under his breath, he could hear curses inside, and tried not to find the situation funny. But as a crash echoed out, he quit smiling and hurried to the door, reaching for the handle right as Bunny shouted, "'M fine! Don' come in! 'S awright, I'm good!"

The pixie raised his brows, touched the handle and whirled back around, frowning to himself a bit and muttering, "What makes you think I was gonna check on you, anyways, you overgrown..." Rabbit.

A little bit of sadness, maybe?

The door swung open and Jack refrained from saying a single thing, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the man. A strange, tightening, unfurling sweep of emotion went through him and was gone before he could think anything of it.

The Pooka looked good.

He had a dark grey shirt on, laced halfway up his arms, and blue-black trousers on, loosely laced around his ankles, hanging low on his hips to show a thin trail of blue-ish fuzz leading south. His hair matched, hanging to his ears and spiking up around the sides and back. In the front, it partially covered the black swirls and dots on his forehead, brushing across his eyelids and eyelashes. He was barefoot, like Jack, and tattoos swirled down from his ankles to his arches, looping around his toes like rings. He had no idea what the symbols meant, but they certainly had a nice effect on the overall appearance.

Quickly looking the man over, the winter spirit found the black lines curling around his ears and looping a bit through his stubble, trailing out from his sleeves, and wrapped around his waist like ivy vines, dropping down under the elastic. They were similar, but from what he could make out, none were the same design.

Which had to be significant, right? But he hadn't ever asked, and would probably never get permission to, so he locked the question away.

Finally, he smiled a bit, and said in a lightly teasing voice, "So are you done primping?"

The skin on the other's face twitched backwards, and Jack could practically see his ears flattening, whiskers laying against his face in irritated embarrassment.

"I wasn't primpin', ya wanka. It was bloody-"

"Ohh, I forgot. Someone's shy!" Jack leapt into the air, dancing airily away from Bunny's reaching hands as the man launched himself at the pixie, a dull flush creeping up into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I'm not shy, snowflake! Get ya frosty butt back hea!" He growled, and followed the spirit on foot, still holding onto the strap of his boomerang pouch and egg-carrier. He had yet to find the boomerang he'd thrown before, but Frost had said he'd help him look, so before they went anywhere, they'd need to find it.

As Frost slipped along in the air, staff lightly behind his leg, hood up, Aster looked him over for what must've been the umpteenth time, wondering if the Man had really meant it that way. Personally, he didn't have anything against those kind of relationships, but he'd never put any really thought into it either. He'd been barely able to call himself a buck when the-

He looked away, banishing his thoughts. Those weren't thoughts meant for thinking. They were meant for creeping around and never speaking of and late at night when I'm alone. Returning to the issue at hand, he shook his head and glanced back up at the figure making small loops and twists, allowing him to catch up before continuing. He'd just barely been an adult when he became the last Pooka, so he really had no experience with that sort of thing. He knew of desires, vague shadowy things he would feel in the midst of spring, after Easter, when his heat usually happened. They had no shape or face, but he knew of sweat and hardness and the wanting of another warm body next to his own.

And Jack Frost...he wasn't _bad_ looking, but Aster couldn't get past the fact that it was _Frost._ Jack Frost. Snowflake. Frostbite. The blizzard of '68 flashed to mind, but he shrugged that off, trying to be objective. Why did the Man even say that? Nah, couldn't be. 'S just impossible.

"-mund? Bunny?" He jolted out of his thoughts, gaze having drifted to the ground. He looked up to see the spirit hovering closer than he as before, and Aster vaguely noted that he had nice, ice blue eyes, for what other blue would suit Jack Frost?

"Wha?"

"Your boomerang. I told like two minutes ago that I found it, but you just stood there. You alright?"

And suddenly Aster was angry. Just like that, frustration welled up in the former Pooka, and he grabbed one of Jack's jacket sleeves, yanking him closer to better yell at.

"Course I'm not bloody awrigh, ya stupid bastard! I'm a fuckin human bein'! Would you be awrigh if you were turned inta a bunny?! No' on ya nelly, ya bloody booby! Yer a damn useless brat! Can' even do anythin' righ'! So just shu' the bloody 'ell up!" He felt his inner Aussie thickening, and he could barely recognize the look Jack as giving him, because he'd rarely brought it out in people. He was the guardian of Hope, after all. It was few and far between that he made someone look that way. Like he was...hurt. Deeply hurt, not to mention shocked.

But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and the pixie was raising his brow and his hands, flitting off and motioning to the left.

"Fine then, Bunny. It's over there. Sheesh," his voice was calm and natural as could be even a lilting tease, and it stabbed into Aster, and the anger was gone, but it was too late. The pixie was closed off, like he was alone where he flew in the sky, hood hiding his face, staff clenched a little too tight in one hand, the other in his jacket pocket. Guilt poured into the Pooka, and he squeezed his eyes tight for a moment, gritting his teeth. Frost had only been...concerned. Just honestly trying to help. Had been doing nothing but trying to help since Bunny had panicked and almost knocked him outta the sky with a misfired boomerang. And Aster had just...had just said some of the meanest things he could think of in a fit of temper. Damn it.

Looking back at Jack's back, as he wasn't facing him, Aster swallowed a sigh, and turned, helpless, to look for his boomerang.

Jack, meanwhile, was biting his lip and rolling the tiny wooden baby of himself that North had given him awhile back, right after the battle, in his pocket. He was telling himself firmly that Bunny was just under a lot of pressure right now, and that he meant none of it.

But...300 years give or take of radio silence from him and everyone else made a kid a bit paranoid that he wasn't wanted. Even after the battle and the bonding with everyone, they all had their own lives, and Jack had gone back to basically being alone again. He'd thought that he and Bunny had become at least somewhat friendly during the time they'd fought and traveled together, but maybe Aster felt differently. After all, a few days teamed up after practically a lifetime as a lone spirit does little to make up for lost time.

Sighing under his breath and curling his fingers tight around the doll, the pixie buried his pain and turned, smiling, to see Bunny tucking away his boomerang. When the former hare looked up, Jack could see nothing of regret or guilt, and let the stab of jolting hurt pass through his façade to burrow into the well of hidden clenched tightness inside himself, folding back up over it with a slight flicker of his lashes, not even a full blink shut. As the inner door jammed shut and locked, the winter spirit made a tiny circle and dropped down to touch the grass with his toes.

"So how do you wanna do this, Bunny? The only way I know out of there is either to fly or through magic. Do you wanna try a tunnel?"

The Pooka frowned a bit, shaking his head.

"Naw, the tunnels ain't s'posed ta work fa anyone tha ain't an egg. Wouldn't lemme through to tha otha side, I don't reckon," he said after a moment, and Jack waited for the next words to come, as he knew they would. They would have to, but after earlier, he said nothing, letting the man say it for himself, and being silent.

"D'ya think ya could...lif' me outta here? Jus' far enough so I kno' where I am?" the question wasn't what he'd been expecting, in a way, and he realized how stupid he was for expecting to be needed for very long. Of course Bunny would have an idea of what to do. He was almost twice Jack's age, after all, and had been a guardian for many times as long. Of course he didn't need help from an upstart winter pixie.

Shaking himself from morbid thoughts, the teen lowered without a word and held out his hand, a warm hand sliding into his hold, waiting until they had a firm grip before lifting the staff in a full-jab-circle, and taking them up, the frosty north wind carrying them into the clouds, the multi-colored river and egg flower fields fading from sight as they ascended. Bunny was wide-eyed and pale as milk, Jack not much better, though he was physically fine. No, his insides hurt, and his head twisted in a migraine, his heart shuddering in his chest like a fearful animal. But get solemnly held onto the man's hand, looking around once out of the Warren's special area, and found they weren't far from his own home.

Bunny apparently noticed that too.

"Tha lake is fione. I can walk from thea inta town. Jus' drop me off nea thea."

"Aww, somebody's a curious little guy," Jack teased lightly, barely scraping the surface, trying to be good-spirited about all this. But the other said nothing, so Jack just shut up, and was silent as the frozen lake became clearer. The brush around it had grown tall and wide, hiding the iced water from the rest of the woods. As they touched down onto a root near the edge of the lake, Jack suddenly became aware that he was becoming hotter. He started panting, and sat down hard on the ice, hands flat, trying to absorb their chill like he usually could. But it got warmer, and all of a sudden, his eyes prickled. Blinking furiously, he scrubbed at his face, freaking out just a little.

"What...I'm...I'm crying?!" He stared at his hands, blue water collected in them, slowly freezing over.

Bunny crouched and looked the boy over. His cheeks, flushed blue, were turning purple, slowly changing to red and back to blue, and his skin was getting the same healthy blush to it instead of being pale and white. This definitely wasn't good, or natural for a winter spirit, and he could understand why Jack was flipping out. He had a sneaking suspicion who was behind this, but focused on the moment. Usually, any tears were frozen up and stopped from falling, but now, all his sadness was being unfrozen and released, and there was a flood, dripping down his face and making his cheeks flush even more in humiliation. Aster's mind went blank for a moment, watching him cry, and wondering at how sad he must've been to have so much packed up and shoved down.

"Mate," he started, but chilled eyes were upturned in milliseconds, denying comfort from the Hope guardian, and as he squatted, helpless, Jack fumbled, reaching for his staff, and yanked it hard upwards, wobbling into the sky and landing hard and jerkily on a branch high above, turning his back to the man and trying to freeze his tears again, unable to help the frustrating sobs that were wracking his body.

There was something profound in the way his back shook minutely with repressed cries, Aster thought sadly, staring upward at the teen, fists ever tight on his sling strap, hoping all was not lost. Because despite all his questioning and wondering why the Man had done this to them, and all his denial for the implications laid before him, he certainly wouldn't mind getting to know Jack Frost a bit better. If the boy had shown anything so far, it was that he couldn't be all that Aster had thought he was. He was apparently helpful, and vulnerable, and horribly, heartbreakingly sad, if the sobs coming from above him were anything to go by. So no, he didn't want it to be over so soon.

And maybe...maybe he didn't want to be alone either. The road had been long, and still more stretched unfathomably before his feet, and he'd been on his own, shouldering his own burdens...for centuries and eons and he was so very tired and...desolate. He was desolate. So instead of moving away, he hop-slid over to the base of the tree and curled up, offered silent, unwanted comfort and smiling just a little. Maybe, just _maybe_ he could learn to love Jack Frost. He had to find a way to apologize, first.


	3. Frozen Progress

Okay, so I think we all realize by now that this story isn't going to be as short as I originally meant for it to be, but I gotta warn you that the chapters might not be as long as yall want:) IM SORRY FOR SO LITTLE HAPPENING HERE:C TRY TO ENJOY!

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He woke up to the sound of crying at short intervals through the night, and couldn't get comfortable, his instincts urging him to comfort and heal, though he wasn't in his right form anymore. So long thinking as a Pooka pretty much makes any other way of seeing things impossible. Which, supposedly, was his issue to begin with. So, with a firm step forward, Aster huddled into the gap in the roots, and tried to ignore the niggling sense of wrong cloaking everything as choked off breathing sounds came from above him. His skin itched and his fingers clenched on themselves tightly in longing to fix the situation somehow.

He was convinced he would never get to sleep, but the next thing he knew, he as awaking to bright, chilled air, his breath fogging before him as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. The crispness of the air burned, and he sighed. As the sound of muffled sniffling came from a little ways away, Aster sat bolt upright, somehow having slipped off to slumber, the night before coming back in a rush.

Stumbling out of the root's protective embrace and feeling his joints pop, the Easter patron scrambled to balance on the ice, his bare feet curling to adjust to the frigid, burn-cold of the surface temperature of the lake. The skin on his skull flinched backward and he could hear a sound like the scrape of fabric on skin, before the sensation slipped free and he was left with muffled sniffling again, somewhere to his left.

Looking around, feeling foolish and bare as he searched for the apparently still crying spirit, he felt something awful, similar to pity but with more of a horrified feeling mixed with sorrow. How could he still be crying? And how, in the months that they'd talked and joked and fought, had Aster never noticed how frozen he was inside?

As goose-flesh pimpled his skin, the man slid-scrabbled to the edge of the ice, feet sinking deep into the snow, crunching into the hard-packed ground under it as he waded around to the side, face hot even as he shivered violently in the below 30 temperatures. But in a moment, he could feel the thin tendril of frost curling over his toes, keeping out the searing hot cold that threatened to turn his new, fur less flesh blue. He blinked, and look up and around, searching for the head of white hair.

"Leave me alone, Bunny," the spirit child muttered, letting the wisp of chill carry his voice a ways so the other heard him. He hated that his voice was watery, and steeled himself, gulping down the resurgence of wetness that wanted to rise in his throat. He'd come back to consciousness from the period of sorrow and felt caked on tear tracks, flushed cheeks, and a bitten lip. His palms had had carved half-moons in the soft flesh, and he'd immediately rushed to rub his face with snow to scrub away the traces and soothe the twinges in the blood he'd lost, flaking on his skin. Now he was refreezing his esophagus and pleading for stoicism.

Frowning for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that he didn't like the feel of being commanded, Aster shook his mane of thick hair, eyes scanning the black and white area, brown and grey glimpsing around the trees and brush.

"Jack? Where are ya?" He ended the question in a whisper, wishing he had his ears to swivel and catch the sounds of breathing and scuffling feet on snow. But he didn't, so he wandered in the direction he could vaguely hear the sniffling in.

"Just go to town. Tell Jamie what's happened, and he'll get you some clothes for the weather. I'll try to find one of the others and meet you there," the voice was whistling in the air, and murmuring at the eaves of trees, and whipping through his hair. He turned, and started in that direction, hauling up the strap on his shoulder when it started to slip down. Coming around a thick dogwood, he saw a blue lump further out, and crept up on the huddled form of Jack Frost, snow iced over near him, hood down, hair shot through with frozen, blue-ish crystals, skin deathly pale again. The milky tint was actually remarkably healthy for a winter spirit, and Aster breathed easier, seeing no new tears on his half-hidden face.

Jack could feel the Pooka behind him, and hurriedly sniffed, drying his eyes with a burst of frozen-hopefully-magic, ice sinking like relief into his features. Glancing over at the man, he again felt that curl of something in his stomach that unfurled and re-furled before he could get a good look at it, leaving him to wonder. But he didn't have time for that as the other got closer, eyes heavy but unquestioning.

"I-uh. I have no idea which way town is, mate," he admitted sheepishly, the accent having calmed since the night before, and made the brush of Aussie less-distinctive. The teen blinked hard, and gratitude made a new and disturbing rush of hot moisture rush up his throat and burn right under his tongue, pushing at his teeth. Instead of releasing it, though, he blanked his face and focused a solemn, quiet look into his eyes, holding Bunny's gaze for a moment before nodding and jerking upright, dragging his staff with him. Carefully, he lifted off, a little unsure, but swooped easily as he found himself recovered.

Deciding with a vengeance to start in a direction that didn't involve his sudden mushy, slushy side, Jack cleared his throat lowly and looked down at the man walking under him, "So...any idea _why_ you're a human now? You never did say anything about that. The Man in the Moon said something, right? That's why you were staring, yeah?"

The man stiffened, and moved slower, frowning. Slowing to match pace, Jack began to worry the longer they went in silence, beginning to dread the answer. But he saw no reason to stop Aster from answering, even if his pulse hammered and blood pumped into his clenched arms, away from his tight white fingers. He could help-_would_ try to help in any way possible. He just needed a way.

Aster, for his part, was hoping the ground would quickly hurry and swallow him up, because as much as he was beginning to adjust to having Jack around, he didn't think he could put up with an angry one questioning him all the time. And that's just exactly what would happen if the reasons came to full light. So he scrambled, and thought, and searched for an answer, empty-handed and damp-necked by the end of a few minutes. They'd come to a full stop, and Bunny looked down at his feet where they were buried in the snow.

But this was ridiculous, wasn't it. He didn't have to let such things come to _full_ light. Just enough to walk by. Or fly by, he thought a little hysterically, where Frost was concerned. So he soothed what would normally be the fur on the back of his neck, sliding a hand down to rub away the chilled sweat from his hair, and blinked twice, finally looking up at the pixie who hovered over him, a questioning fear in his eyes, overlaid with such curiosity.

"He says I've lost mah humanity, or some such gahbage. Lookit me. I'ma human fer eggsake! How much more 'in touch' cannae ge'?" He gestured to himself roughly, trying to fob off the attention from the questions he knew would be next. Jack frowned, looking up at the sky a moment before nodding and swiveling, tossing over his shoulder, "Lets go find Jamie."

Trembling in near-relief, heavy confusion and almost-but-it-couldn't-be disappointment, Aster let himself be led through the trees and into pavement where the road from town headed into the woods. Watching the shadow wavering below the teen frostbite, he frowned again and knew the tiny niggling jerk in his gut was guilt and shame, but he couldn't help the relaxed sigh that soothed the ache after a moment.

Jack, on the other hand, was cradling something bleeding and broken like lost trust in his chest, hollow and painful as he carried on, trying not to hear the shuffling of feet under him, ignoring the dry stretch and pulling in his throat and stubbornly breathing in freezing breaths, solidifying the wet heat that wanted to pour out. That was over, and wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. So he firmly tucked away the broken things, carefully folding over the knot of hurt and thinking of brighter thoughts.

Clenching his fist on the trickle of ice that usually spread into his staff, he relaxed the flow enough to spin it and remain steady in the air, turning to fly backwards. He let his breath out slowly, letting the tension out of his spine, dropping his feet so they hung limply, toes uncurling. The sun was bright and the air was pleasantly frigid, and he glanced through his lashes and over his cheeks at the man trudging through the snow a little ways under him.

"Right, well, I just wondered. Anyways, I couldn't find North or Tooth last night, so I'll drop you off and go look for Sandy, I guess. Yeah, I-uh, I'll let you explain to Jamie whatever you want to about your...furless condition, so-"

He cut off and flipped a bit sideways, letting his eyes skitter away from the bright green ones looking up at him, surprise written across the stubbled face. It made him angry that the Easter spirit apparently didn't even see why he'd want to leave right now, but that was okay, because it wasn't actually Bunny's fault that he didn't pay attention of take into account possible hurtful things. He had enough to deal with right now, and frost sluiced over the edges and underside of the rage, second-freezing it so it cooled as he letting understanding peace take it's place.

After nearly 300 years alone, he had a tight reign over himself, and that's why he'd freaked when he'd unfrozen before. Nothing like that was supposed to happen. He was one of the strongest elemental spirits, and one of the oldest. He'd never had it happen to him. It scared him ice-less.

But enough. Right now wasn't for that. That was for the time after, when he had time for it. Right now was-

Letting the air drifts carry them over the last line of trees and across on of the main border roads into town, Jack grinned and waved a hand to the man, jokingly presenting the rows of buildings.

"Ta-da."

"Wait mate. Yah leavin'?" Thick, heavy brows wrinkled and darted to pool together in the middle skin of the bridge of his face, and the teen let his eyes fade away from the accusing, confused eyes, irritation beginning before dissipating again in the middle. Somehow he couldn't stay mad at him. Objectively he knew and pouted over that totally not being fair.

"Yeah. Not like you need me, right? I'll go try an find Sandy and the others, and you can look around town and try to see what the Man meant until we get back. I'm sure the kids will help. It's spring break in a few days, right? You'll have more luck hangin' around here than we would flying tandem. I won't take too long. I'm sure it'd be better to have more experienced help right now," he bit his lip hard to stop up the steady flow of words, and breathed in deep through his nose, letting it hiss silently out through his teeth.

Aster felt his heart sink below his stomach and settle into a back flitter of nausea. The kid had taken it to heart. Shit. How on Mother's green earth was he going to make this right now?


End file.
